"Quinn, can you come over here?" Lisa called from the other side of the almost completely empty office.
It was Friday afternoon, hot outside and most people had gone home early. Quinn hadn't. She was waiting for Puck to pick her and for their trip to Lima to begin once more. Lisa had gotten her own office mere days earlier and loved calling people in to see them, instead of stepping out three feet in to the main area. Quinn agreed without comment and entered the small room.
"Sit" her boss said in a voice that was at the same time too sweet and too pleased.
Quinn sat. The visitor's chair was one that Lisa had taken from the reception area where it had been used for hosting waiting clients. It was red and bright and looked very misplaced with the rest of the somber décor.
"We need to talk" Lisa said and Quinn guessed that she had been longing to use those four words for years.
"Okay."
"You've been here almost a year."
"Yes."
Quinn's heart rate increased. She had spoken briefly with Miranda Kennings about her internship coming to its end and Mrs. Kennings had promised that she and Quinn would sit down and talk about the future soon. Maybe she had delegated.
"We don't usually take interns and I don't know why they made an exception for you" Lisa said harshly in a soft voice, as if it dulled the pain. "It only gave you false hope."
The message was clear. No doubt. Her time here was over. The shock was unexpectedly massive and almost pushed her into saying something. Scream why or cry or protest. But only almost. Quinn was too proud to beg and too polite to insist. And she didn't want to give Lisa the satisfaction.
"We close down the office in July, so it's best if you leave before that" Lisa went on, still in her sugarcoated voice and with the gleaming eyes of glee.
"Fine."
"Kennings only hires the best. It's nothing personal, it's just a question of keeping our reputation."
Quinn noticed that she was standing up without realizing how it had happened. Her hands were curled into fists but she fought inwardly to keep her face blank. She showed nothing. It was her only defense at this point, to leave with her honor, without making a scene.
"That's it" Lisa said.
And Quinn left her office. She went to the kitchen and took her peanut butter sandwiches out of the fridge. She turned off her computer, took her purse and left. The doors made no noise as they shut behind her. She couldn't understand it. She was involved in Betty's new project; had been researching for weeks now and what was the point of all that if she wasn't allowed to stay? Was she really that replaceable?
"Hey" Puck called from his car which he had double parked outside the office building. "You're early!"
He grinned at her as she opened the car door and slid in. He kissed her and she could almost feel the happiness on his tongue. He was longing for Beth. She was breaking down inside. She was back on square one. Unemployed. With no goal. And he was delirious with joy.
"You're early too" she remarked.
"Couldn't wait. I just want to get on the road."
He was playing classic rock and she couldn't stand the high notes and tacky lyrics. Her head was exploding. It had been a normal Friday afternoon and now everything was ruined. And all she wanted to was to tell him, to make him pull over the car and hold while she cried. But he was so happy. And she felt shame. Shame. Her dream was dead and it hurt and maybe they had all been right, this idea of her making documentaries was ludicrous.
"Only twelve hours left" he said, leaning over to kiss her again.
"Yeah" she said.
And for the first time in maybe forever, the anxiety of seeing Beth seemed so minor in comparison to what had just happened. The sun was shining and people were happy and the man she loved sat beside her, and still everything felt wrong.
…
"It's just for a few hours" Shelby promised.
"It's fine" Quinn promised.
Beth was already in the pool and only came up for air every ten seconds. Shelby hovered, staying but glancing repeatedly at her watch. She was going out on a date. Quinn was babysitting, by herself. Puck was busy with something, Shelby had told her. Quinn didn't want to know what. She knew that he would do almost anything to be with Beth and therefor this activity he had today must be very important.
"I'll pick her up later."
"It's fine" Quinn repeated in a calming voice she used to use on Rachel whenever she was waiting to hear back from a producer after an audition.
It seemed to work on Shelby too. Genetics was neat that way. Shelby looked nice with her hair curled and her makeup done. Quinn thought of the all the lonely women in this town. Her own mother and Puck's and Shelby. Too good for the men who had left them. Strong and independent and good mothers. She could be like them. Strong and alone.
"Beth? I'm leaving now" Shelby called out.
Beth ignored her and dived under the surface again. Her mother sighed heavily.
"Isn't eight a bit early to turn into a teenager?" she asked and shook her head.
Quinn only smiled and then someone honked from the road and Shelby left in a hurry. Quinn sat down on the edge of the pool, dipping her bare legs in the blue water. This was the first time she had Beth all to herself. For an entire day. Perhaps it should make her head spin but it didn't.
"I've practicing" Beth said. "I can stay under the water for almost a minute now."
"Really? Want me to time you?"
She nodded. The dark hair was plastered to her face and the pink bathing suit stood out against her tan skin. A beautiful child, Quinn thought, but then again, probably most people thought that of their own children. It was probably something nature had created to keep mothers and fathers from murdering and eating their young. The only thing that would stop a slaughter was love. Quinn remembered a documentary she had seen about grey whales and how the mother whale had tried to hours to defend her calf from killer whales. And how when the baby was killed, she made a noise of defeat and sorrow. Unconditional love above all.
"Yeah."
Beth couldn't hold her breathe for a minute, not even close, but it was fun and they laughed and in the end Quinn slid into the pool too. She ducked under water and opened her eyes. Beth was looking at her under the surface. Quinn stayed under until her chest ached and her heartbeat was loud in her ears. She was good at torturing herself; pushing herself to the limit.
"How did you do that?" Beth asked wide-eyed.
"I've practiced" she replied.
Which was kind of true because the previous year had been a struggle to survive even though it felt like her lungs would burst.
"Can you teach me?" Beth asked. "Like you taught me how to cartwheel?"
Quinn promised that she would and thought that if she didn't succeed, life would probably force Beth to learn to hold her breath anyway.
…
"Oh, Judy, they're lovely" Elisabeth Puckerman said, looking at the pictures of Frannie's newborn twins.
"I know" Judy said, on the verge of tears (again). "Clara and Lance. Clara Judith. Isn't that beautiful?"
"It is."
Quinn took the pictures from Puck's mother and looked again at her niece and nephews. They looked identical except the gender specific blankets; a pink for Clara and blue for Lance. They were tiny. Beth had once been that tiny too and now she was seven years old. Quinn still couldn't quite grasp it.
"Their birthdays will be only two weeks before Beth's" Puck said.
He was thinking of her too. It wasn't that odd. This entire weekend was about her. Earlier that day they had celebrated her seventh birthday in Shelby's garden. Quinn almost forgotten about what Lisa had told her for a minute. Almost.
"Grandchildren, the only good thing about your own children growing up" Elisabeth said airily.
"Yes, I see it now" Judy sighed dreamily and then met Quinn's eyes. "You know what I mean, Quinny. I know- Beth, but I never get to see her and…"
"It's fine" Quinn said. "I get it."
"It was just so wonderful to hold them. I never got to hold Beth. Not even once."
"I know, mom."
Her reply was followed by silence. The summer evening was warm and Puck had invited them over for a barbecue. Hannah was out on a date, her first, with some boy from the synagogue. Quinn still hadn't told Puck about losing her job and her dream, and his hand on her thigh made her feel guilty about it. She would tell him, she told herself, tomorrow when he came over to her house for breakfast. This weekend was the only time of the year when they slept in separate rooms, in separate houses. The only two nights when she couldn't just reach out in the middle of the night and touch him.
"Well" Elisabeth Puckerman said. "Well, maybe soon they'll be more babies for us to gush over, Judy."
"Oh, I pray for it every day."
Quinn tried to smile like it was all a joke, like they weren't really talking about how badly they wanted Quinn and Puck to conceive a second child, despite everything that had happened while she pregnant with the first one.
"Can you two at least give us some hope?" Elisabeth begged, elbowing her son in the side.
"I'd do anything for you, mom" he answered grinning. "You know that, but you know, I can't really decide it on my own."
"Quinny? You both have jobs, you have place to live, and you've been together since forever. What's there to wait for?"
No, she didn't have a job. And if she didn't get one, how was she supposed to support herself financially? And yes, they had an apartment but now that Kennings didn't want her, Boston was out of opportunities. Most the productions companies were in New York or LA.
"Don't you think it would make you so happy, honey? Having a child of your own? Don't you think?" Judy went on.
"No" Quinn replied slowly and silently. "I don't think having a baby would magically fix everything."
"I didn't mean-"
"But you kind of did."
"Quinn…" Puck mumbled, taking her hand under the table.
She pulled away.
"It's not that easy, mom. I won't forget about Beth just because we have another child."
"Maybe not" Elisabeth interjected. "And no one is asking you to forget her. But maybe it will be easier to cope with the loss if you move on."
"No, it won't."
"Puck, what do you think?" his mother asked kindly.
"It doesn't matter what I think" he replied, almost bitterly.
"What is that supposed to mean?" Quinn snapped, her cheeks flushed with anger at his flippant tone.
"If I had got a say in it, we would have kept her. You know that."
"I asked you. In hospital. I asked you if you wanted to keep her but you didn't say anything."
"I know you didn't want to."
"I did want to. But I thought ahead. Of what future she could have with us. Of what would happen to us and her. You were young and blind and naïve and I had to make the hard decisions."
Tears welled up in her eyes. Angry tears. Tears of betray. It been seven years and he still hadn't forgiven her. Seven years and nothing had changed.
"Come on" Elisabeth said softly. "Don't fight."
"We never fight" Puck said harshly. "I'm scared that if I ever raise my voice at her, she will run away and I will lose her forever."
She stared at him. At the face she loved and now hated for ruthlessly revealing her like this. His eyes were almost black with anger. She knew that she should back off and go home. But she didn't want to. She wanted to hurt him too, like he hurt her. And maybe she might have, if Hannah hadn't come home at that moment, with red cheeks and sparking eyes. Quinn listened to her talk about the boy and how he had bought her dinner and held out her chair. She listened but heard nothing.
…
"Shelby told me that your mother is selling this house" Beth said as they sat on the couch and ate ice cream.
Shelby still wasn't back from her date and it was almost nine o'clock. That was probably a good sign. Both for the guy and for Quinn. Evidently she was trustworthy enough to look after Beth for several hours in a row.
"Yes. She's moving closer to my sister."
"Your mom's called Judy, right?"
"Yes."
"What's your father called?"
"Russell."
"Are your mom and dad divorced?"
"Yes."
"My grandparents. Sort of" she whispered.
"Yes" Quinn agreed. "Sort of."
"I've never talked to them."
"I know."
Quinn wondered if she should change the topic of the conversation. This was unsafe ground. She didn't know what Shelby had already told Beth and what Quinn was not allowed to say. There were all these rules and Quinn had a hard time remembering them. She tried to come up with something to say, something that would distract an eight year old from her own heritage. She came up blank.
"Why didn't you want me?"
The question caught Quinn off guard. Her mouth fell opened and her heart raced. Here it was. The question. The first and the last question. So simple and yet to incredible complicated. How could she even begin to explain?
"I did want you."
"You gave me away to a stranger."
"Beth…"
"Shelby says I'm not allowed to ask you."
"Why do you call her that, Beth? Why don't you call her mom anymore?"
Beth clenched her jaw, just like Quinn did when she was angry. A little piece of her amongst everything that was Puck's. It gave her strength and hope.
"She's not my mom."
"Oh, Beth…"
"She's not."
Quinn wanted to cry and run and leave. She wasn't ready to talk about this. But then again, she would never be. And when she made the choice to give her child up for adoption, she had signed up for this kind of questions. Beth deserved to know. Everyone deserved to know where they came from.
"She keeps telling me that I will understand it when I'm older" Beth said with contempt in her voice.
"I'm twenty-four and I still don't get it" Quinn smiled faintly.
"What was wrong with me? Why didn't you want me?" Beth asked again, almost in a whisper.
"It wasn't like that. You have to believe me. I wanted you. I held my hands against my stomach and felt your kicks and heard your heart beat and loved you so much."
"Then why?"
"Because of me. I was sixteen, just a kid. I lied to everyone and tried to hide it because I was so scared. My father kicked me out when he found out. I was all alone and terrified and couldn't handle it."
"You had Puck."
"Maybe. But we were so young. He wasn't even my boyfriend. I don't think your mom would want me to tell you this, but I had another boyfriend back then. One I didn't love. And Puck wasn't known to stay with a girl for longer than two days. I knew he would leave and I would be alone with a child."
"He didn't. He's still with you. Kind of."
"Yes, he is. And he always wanted you. He used to sing to you all the time. He couldn't understand why I couldn't keep you. Sometimes I think that he still doesn't."
"Did you ever change your mind?" Beth asked.
"Yes. A million times. I still do, but less and less, because I know you have good mother and a good home and a stable environment and I couldn't give you that."
Beth finally lowered her gaze. She was eight and Quinn was twenty-four and their ages would always be parallel like this, dependent of each other.
"I don't have mother then. You're not really my mom and Shelby's not really either."
"Or you have two" Quinn argued softly.
"Do I have to call her mom?"
"No. I guess not."
"But I can't really call you mom either."
"I don't know."
Beth smiled a tiny smile, the most honest smile she had ever given Quinn. It warmed her like the first sun in the spring.
"What about Puck? What if Shelby marries the man she's on a date with now? Will he be my dad?"
"Beth, I don't really think there's a rule book for these kinds of things. Call people what you want. Just maybe explain to Shelby why."
Beth nodded. She looked tired; sleepy after a day of swimming and eating junk food and thinking hard of all these things.
"I don't really have a dad either" Quinn said. "He kicked me out and then he left. And Puck's dad left too. No family is perfect."
"Why did you break up? Beth asked.
Quinn's instinct was to change the subject, but she fought it. She was their child in the end. She if anyone deserved to know.
"I think we were in bad place. I was, at least. I put up walls, to protect myself and he tried to reach me, to tear down the walls, but it just hurt me even more" she began and then stopped herself. "I'm sorry, I'm talking in metaphors."
"Did you want it to end?"
"No."
"Did he?"
"No."
"Then it seems stupid."
…
Her phone buzzed in the middle of the night, and she got up, and snuck down the stairs. He stood on the lawn, looking up at her window. The grass was wet and cold against the soles of her feet.
"Hey" he said.
"Hey" she said.
Sneaking out in the middle of the night to see your boyfriend was supposed to be full of with kisses and love and endless happiness. She just felt scared and vulnerable in an old t-shirt of his and bare feet against the chill of the night.
"I'm sorry" he said, and she wondered why she always let him say it first, always, in every fight.
"Me too" she said, too late, as always.
"I shouldn't have said all those things. Not in front of them. I'm sorry."
She nodded and then shook her head.
"But you meant them."
He opened his mouth, but said nothing. She knew why he did it. He never wanted to lie, but right now, he didn't want to tell the truth either. She decided to save him, for now.
"Lisa asked to talk to me before I left. She told me that my time's up. I won't be needed back in the fall; not as an intern and not as an employee."
She said with as much distance and as little feeling as she could. As if it was something that hadn't ruined everything, for her and for them. His face fell at her words. His eyes became soft and he reached out for her. She felt like his arms were the only sources of warmth in the world.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"I don't know."
"I'm sorry."
"I know."
She closed her eyes and pressed her face into his skin. She never wanted him to let go of her, because if he did, she would be cold again, and maybe cold forever.
"Where does leave us?" she asked.
"I don't know, Quinn. But it's fine. We'll work it out. We always do."
"No" she whispered in despair. "It never works out. Never in my life has anything worked out."
Her tone was too bitter and too harsh for the early morning sunrise, and she stepped away from him. She didn't deserve to be held.
"This is what life is like with me" she told him. "Things fall apart and I fall apart and I drag you with me."
"Don't say that."
"I don't want kids. Not now, and maybe not ever."
She felt bold for once. Almost fearless, suddenly. Perhaps it was the feeling of hopelessness.
"Let's not do this now" he said.
"Yes, let's. You obviously want to talk about it. You can raise your voice at me now; I'm already falling apart, it won't matter."
"Stop" he said sternly.
He stepped forward and kissed her. A deep kiss filled with willing and love and hope. She closed her eyes and felt and felt and felt, until her senses ached with him. He was only thing, she thought, and that was probably the least healthy thought that had ever gone through her head. He was all she had now. And he was slipping away, inch by inch.
"I'm sorry for what I said about Beth" he told her, looking into her eyes and forcing her to look into his.
He had always been good at apologizing. She had always been terrible at it. Yin and Yang and all that.
"It's fine."
"No, it's not. It's not fair."
"Life isn't fair."
Her small moment of courage was over. She was scared again; scared to lose him; to fight; to see him leave.
"Please come up with me" she begged.
"Really? What about your mom?"
"I'm twenty-three. We live together. I think she understands that we sometimes sleep in the same bed."
He grinned. Like it was all fine now. She took his hand and went inside. Her wet feet squeaked against the floor. Her bed was much narrower than the one they were used to sharing. It worked out fine because then he had to be closer to her. Every inch of his body touched hers. Neither of them could turn without forcing the other to do the same.
"I love you" he whispered.
"I know."
"That's the most important thing" he continued. "I love you, so, so much."
His voice sounded almost tormented as he said it, but she fell asleep before she allowed herself to think about it.
…
Her father looked older than he had just a year ago. His hair was greying and getting thinner. The lines on his face were deeper. She stared at him and he stared at her and she wondered if she should have called ahead.
"Here's your stuff" she said and pushed one of the huge cardboard boxes into his arms.
He took it. She went back to her car to get another one. The car ride to her father's house had taken almost four hours. Not once during those hours had she second-guessed the decision to unannounced appear on her father's porch with all the things he had left in with his ex-wife. Now she was here, parked outside the house her father owned with another woman, and doubt was rising inside her. But it wasn't crumbling doubt. And the look of surprise on his face had dulled most of her fear. She had the upper hand this time, for the first time, ever.
"What is all this?" he asked her when she returned with a second box, filled to the brim with books about the civil war that no one had ever opened.
"Your stuff" she said in a polite tone. "Mom's selling the house."
"She's selling?"
"Yes. It's her house, remember? She got it in the divorce."
Since he hadn't done anything with the first box she had placed in his arms, she placed the second one at his feet and returned again to car. He followed her this time, still carrying the things he hadn't missed.
"You could have called."
"Yeah, I guess I could."
"This really isn't a good time for company."
"I'm not here to spend time with you. I'm just dropping off your things. I'll be gone in three minutes if you help me."
She was serious. She had no plan of drinking tea and eating cookies with him. He was her father but she didn't love him. She could feel it now. Nothing. He was just a person who had made her life miserable. She placed the last box on the door step. The one filled with ugly china that once had belonged to her father's grandmother.
"Russell?"
Quinn looked up and stood face to face with her new mother. Her father's new wife. She was young, 28 if Quinn remembered correctly. Young and lovely. A younger version of Judy Fabray in black jeans and a cashmere sweater.
"He's coming" she said soothingly.
Her father came around the corner and into view. His wife extended her hand to Quinn. The nails were sharp and pink and her skin soft.
"Hello, I don't think we've met. I'm Lindsey Fabray."
Quinn thought for a second about how she now shared a name with a complete stranger. It meant nothing of course, but at the same time everything.
"Quinn Fabray" she said, shaking Lindsey's hand. "Your husband's daughter. I guess he doesn't have pictures of me around."
"She just came to drop off some things" Russell said hurriedly.
"Quinn! Oh, it's so nice to finally meet you! Come in, please."
Quinn shook her head.
"No thanks. It's fine."
"Please."
Lindsey begged and when someone begged, Quinn was too polite to decline. They placed all the boxes in the living room before Lindsey ordered Russell to make coffee. He made moaning noise and left them.
"I've been dying to meet you" Lindsey said. "You and your sister."
"I'm sorry we didn't come to the wedding."
"Believe me, I get it. I wouldn't be exactly thrilled if my father married a girl my own age."
Her tone was sarcastic and she winked at Quinn. She spoke of how important family was, how close she was to her own siblings. She asked Quinn questions about herself, about Frannie's children and even about Judy, in a polite and non-nosy way. By the time Russell returned with the coffee, Quinn thought that it had happened again. A good woman had fallen in love with a bad man. Her father had done it again.
"It's ridiculous that I haven't met your children, Russell" Lindsey said accusingly.
He made a non-committal noise. Quinn smiled.
"We haven't exactly the best relationship" she explained. "He kicked me out when I was sixteen and pregnant. I guess I never really got over that."
Her father's face turned blood red. He opened her mouth to shout at her, but Lindsey cut across him. Her voice was soothing and mending.
"I know, I know. I figured that much out. I'm sorry for what you've been through."
Quinn nodded and looked at her father. An aging man. Who had had to start his life over because no one in his old life wanted him anymore. He didn't scare her. Frankly, right now it was hard to remember how he had never had that effect on her.
…
Quinn took her notebooks and crammed them into her purse. Nothing else on her desk belonged to her. Someone else would drink out of the coffee cup she had used for a year. Someone else would type on her keypad and stare at her computer screen and write with her pens. It would be like she hadn't ever been there. A faint memory.
"I'm so sad you're leaving" Betty said and looked like she meant it. "I never thought… I mean, I was sure you would get Jonathan's job."
"Where's he going?"
"To Bali for some research thing, at least a year."
"I guess you'll have to do without the both of us then."
Betty hugged her. Quinn hugged her back but couldn't help but wonder why she had a job and Quinn hadn't. What did she have that Quinn hadn't? She was from Yale too, in her early thirties but incompetent when it came to computers. Sure, she was good with people and ideas and lovely, but how much better was she than Quinn?
"At least this will give you time to work on your own thing, You know, your project about adoptions" Betty tried.
"Yeah" she replied, instead of saying with what equipment?
Lisa was in her office with the glass door closed. Miranda Kennings was still out of the country. Quinn hovered for a minute or two longer, reluctant to leave. When she did, she took a cab to the train station and caught a train to New York. Santana greeted her at grand central station with an almost sympathetic smile and a cup of spiked coffee. They sat on a park bench and drank coffee and rum, and then just rum, and when they got too drunk, just coffee. New York buzzed and yelled and screeched. It filled every empty space in Quinn's brain.
"I'm unemployed" she said. "Four years of college, and still, here I am."
"In this economy, if you're not young and without a job, you're the minority" Santana sighed.
"Good for this white girl to finally be a minority" Quinn said.
Santana laughed. She was drunk and Quinn was drunk and it wasn't even evening yet.
"Did you tell Puck you were coming here?"
"Why do you ask?"
"Well, last time you didn't, he was worried sick and you threw up."
Quinn rolled her eyes.
"I called him on the train, if you have to know."
"Why are you mad at him?"
"I'm not."
It was Santana's turn to roll her eyes. She fished out a cigarette from her purse and lit it and stuck it between her lips. When she blew out the smoke, she deliberately did so in Quinn's eyes.
"We had a fight. But we made up."
"About what?"
"Stuff."
"Right…"
"Kids. Our kids. The one we have and the ones he wants to us to have."
"Shit."
"Yeah."
"Will you ever be able to agree on that?"
"Probably not."
Santana offered Quinn the cigarette but she shook her head. Her mouth was already parched.
"If it was anyone else, I would tell you break up. Now. Before you get older and he gets more desperate to reproduce. I mean, it's a pretty big deal. Kids. If you want them or not. Life-changing really."
"I know."
They sat quietly as a family passed them on the pavement. A mother and a father and two kids in strollers. Quinn hated them.
"I'm the one who always has to explain and defend my decision" she said loathingly. "No one asks him why he is so willing. I'm the odd one."
"Tanya has kids. I haven't met them yet."
"Who's Tanya again?"
"Someone I met."
"How old is she?"
"I don't know exactly. Thirty-five maybe. Two kids from a marriage to a man. They filed for divorce six months after the last one was born."
"Love doesn't equal love" Quinn concluded.
"No, but it doesn't wreck it either. Not always."
Quinn thought of herself and Finn and her family. And her pregnancy had torn everything apart. She thought of her parents whom had lived in a loveless marriage with two daughters. She thought of Puck's father who had left. Kids didn't magically fix everything. People liked to think they did, those little bundles of joy. Quinn was the only realist.
"Let's go home and watch one of those animal shows you love" Santana suggested. "I think Rachel and Kurt are both out tonight so we might actually be able to hear the TV."
…
He called her. She had deleted his number ages ago, but knew the digits by heart. She had called it so many times that the rhythm of it was still in her fingers.
"Where are you?" he asked.
"In the car. I'll be home in an hour."
"Pick me up at my house."
"Okay."
Somehow she still felt empowered by the encounter with her father. Almost fearless and bold. She thought that whatever what he and Karen had decided, it didn't really concern her. Not really. She couldn't lose him more than she already had.
"Are you listening to my CD?" was the first question he asked, laughter in his voice.
She laughed too. His Classic Rock Anthems of the 80's had suited her mood. She had even sung along to songs she recognized as she drove too fast on the highway.
"I thought you hated my music" he said.
"I thought I did too."
The evening was soft and pale and the car seemed almost soundless as they drove round and round the center of Lima. She was caught in the car, she thought, she couldn't run away and hide. But it was comforting too, because neither could he. As long as she kept driving, they would be together.
"We can't keep doing this" he said.
"I know."
"I don't understand it. It's been a year. And I still don't feel any different about you."
A declaration of love. But too early. The but was about to come, she could feel it. He loved her, but...
"I think I love her too. Karen, I mean."
"You love people too easily" Quinn smiled.
"Are you jealous?" he grinned.
More jokes. First about music and now this. They were both evading the subject.
"She shouldn't have had to make me decide" Puck said. "I should have done it myself… I thought I had. I really thought I had."
Quinn said nothing. She drove passed their old High School so slowly that someone behind them honked. Puck didn't even flinch.
"She told me that she didn't want to be with me if I rather wanted to be with you."
Quinn suddenly envied Karen for having guts enough to say that. She wasn't there yet. Not strong enough to maybe get the reply she didn't want.
"She wanted you to lie" Quinn said.
"No, she didn't."
"What did you tell her?"
"I told you that you and I are over. That we have been for months. That I love her."
"And what did she say?"
"That that wasn't the answer to her question."
"She's smart."
He smiled. She wanted to tell him everything that had had happened since they last spoke. She wanted to tell him about emptying the house and moving on. She wanted to tell him about driving to see Russell and standing up to him and not hating his new wife. And she wanted to tell him about Beth. What she had said and how proud Quinn was of what she had replied. She wanted to tell him all of that before he gave her the verdict. She felt like it would matter.
"She doesn't want to be a second-choice, and who would want to be?" he continued.
"She thinks you fell in love with her because she is everything I'm not" Quinn said.
"I know."
"Do you think she's right?"
"I don't know. Maybe."
He exhaled loudly. She inhaled inaudibly. Yin and yang and all that.
"I told her that she's not a second choice. I told her that I feel like there's you, and then there's everyone else. You don't compete with each other."
"What did she say to that?"
"A lot. But the point is, she broke up with me, or we broke up or something. She's back in Boston now."
He said it quickly, as if the words burned his tongue. Quinn nodded slightly. She felt deeply sorry for Karen. It was of course easier to feel that now when she was out of the picture. There was only the two of them left. She and Puck. Like always.
"She's not the reason we broke up though" he said.
"No."
"We broke up because we're so different. Because we couldn't agree on things. Because you have issues and I have issues and sometimes, that's not a good match."
"I know."
This was the disclaimer. He loved her, but…
"I don't want to be left again. Never. That's my issue. Daddy issues, of course. Then you did it. Once and then twice. And then again, the final time. Left me alone. I never want that again."
She kept her eyes on the road. Shame burned inside her. She hated herself for making him miserable.
"I think we should try. For real. To move on."
He spoke in staccato now. Swallowing after every word. She hated the words move on. She had never moved on from anything.
"I think it's for the best."
She nodded. Because she had broken up with him once and now he was doing it to her. It was only fair. He was scared. There was nothing shameful in being scared.
"I will love you forever" he said.
"No, you won't."
"Yes, I will" he promised and he never lied.
…